Three Day's Dance
by AuthenticAussie
Summary: His resolve crumbled as though it had never been there to begin with. Bending till they were eye level, he told her truthfully, "I could never refuse a lady's plea. I won't tell your father – but please, in exchange, I would rather not lose my head."


**hums all of these requests I'm doing now are so old (and I want to do new oooneesss) but I haven't been writing as much as I should lately ;n;**  
**pLEASE ALSO EXCUSE, THERE IS LIKE ONE PART OF THE FIC WHERE I THREW UP MY HANDS AND WENT SCREW THIS AND JUST CHUCKED IN NAMES? Like legit it is one line and I was like 'I am not analyzing which person should be which person THERE'S LIKE 17 CHARACTERS IN THIS ONE SCENE NO'**  
**Also there is a _possibility_ that I may make this into a 2-shot, but I've just wanted to upload something to prove I wasn't dead.**  
**soooo...hey! I'm not dead!**

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In a tiny village, hidden in the midst of nowhere-on-the-sea, there lived a tiny blond boy.

This tiny blond boy was a dreamer; he didn't speak of it often, too frequently exposed to the scornful looks on parent's faces, or the disbelief and doubt on those he may've called his friends, but when he did, he came alive.

His eyes glittered with the light glinting off waves that crashed against the side of the ship he sailed in his dreams; his tone was breathless as the beauty of what he saw stole it completely away. With his words full of awe and wonder, the tiny blond boy eagerly told those who listened with suspended disbelief that one day, someday, he'd find the greatest sea in all of the world, and he'd create the most wonderful food in the world; food so marvellous that one day a king would beg on his knees for him.

Now, this young blond boy was no fool. He knew that every dream came with a price, and his price was dedication. For every hour he spent playing, he spent five more practicing his craft. He chopped vegetables, skinned meat, memorising spices and flavours and tastes till they became as instinctual to him as breathing.

And all was well in his world.

However, next to the little village in the middle of nowhere-on-the-sea was a larger place, which frequently fought, and tried to tear itself apart. Nowhere-on-the-sea lived in part of one of the larger kingdoms, torn almost in half by civil war; and when this tiny blond boy was a older, elbows and knees and movements as sharp as one of the knives he so elegantly wielded, a horse rode through their town, banner a crimson stain against the sky;

"Bring out your sons, bring out your daughters, because _war_ has come!"

And so he put down his knives and picked up a sword, and then balanced both when the army men and women around him slept curled inwards around stomachs that cramped from hunger and growled through the night because the chefs could not spread around the food. He learnt, taught, fought; then that little blond boy was little no longer. Grown into lanky limbs and sharp pressed suits, the hollow edges to his cheeks shadowed and scars still flecked with the dried blood that came with trying to win a war.

Trying, of course, being the key word. When the king was taken hostage, and the army was forcibly disbanded, Sanji began the long, weary walk back to Nowhere-on-the-sea, resting tired feet on the land he'd fought to protect but unable to find his way home quickly.

About a week into his journey home he came across an old lady, wizened by age and clutching a knobbed stick in her hands. She sat on a large rock by the side of the road, and upon hearing her loud groan as he walked by, he stopped and turned towards her. "M'lady, do you need a hand?"

"No need for such formalities, soldier. Call me Ace." The gaps in her yellow teeth seemed even darker when the old lady smiled, her freckles moving with her grin, but when Sanji caught a glimpse of her eyes, he saw a mischievous spark glint in them before she moved her head as though to disguise it.

"Well, call me Sanji, then." He said respectfully, pushing that trick of the light from his mind. "Do you need a hand, Madam Ace?"

"Oh no, not me. But if you go along just a little further, you'll find a king in need of some help. If you want, you could win yourself a wife there. It's said his daughters are the most beautiful in the land."

"A king, needing someone's help?" Sanji asked, brow furrowing, and saw the old lady nod. He paused, thoughtfully, but then shrugged, looking down the road to where a large castle rested on the horizon. "I have no need to win a wife, but any beautiful lady deserves to be honoured, and I have been told that I'm a very excellent chef."

"A chef? Well, chef, if you're asked to help, then accept. The king is not welcoming to those whom he perceives to have committed a slight. And if you do accept, than do not accept the food the princesses will give you, and do not accept the drinks; for if you sleep, they shall surely slip past you."

"Slip past me should I sleep? What do you-" Sanji turned, question poised on his lips, but the lady he'd been talking to had vanished, the only trace of her the slight swirls of the mist. "M'lady?"

Sanji frowned, searching for where the old lady had gone, but she'd vanished, her memory and words all that remained.

And so the boy from nowhere-on-the-sea shrugged ad headed along down the road, towards the castle.

He arrived there before sunset, calloused knuckles carefully knocking upon the wooden door of the palace, and the sound echoed as though the castle's hall was empty. It seemed strange to him not to see any guards, nor any other people along the road to the palace, but as Sanji frowned and leaned backwards to see the battlements, the door opened and a man with fly-away curly hair held back by a bandana peered out.

"Hurry, hurry." The man said, once he saw that Sanji was standing there, and he fastened dark fingers around the cook's bicep, fearfully glancing around as though he thought he'd be eaten if he stayed out for too long. Utterly confused, Sanji allowed himself to be dragged inside the palace, door shut behind him, and the young man leading him proceeded to half-herd, half-pull him down an extravagantly decorated corridor. "The king's pretty mad so you should probably go and introduce yourself really quickly. He thought that nobody'd show up tonight to protect his daughters, and find out where they go every night."

"But-," Sanji tried to interrupt, but was hauled through another door and pushed onto a red carpet. The man who pushed him cleared his throat.

"Royal announcer Usopp royally announcing Sir-," Usopp paused, looking slightly stricken, and glanced back at the cook. "What's your name?"

"Sanji, but-"

"Sir Sanji, here to protect the Princesses!"

"But I'm not-," He tried to say again, but was this time stopped as the King himself rose, pushing up his glasses with the heel of one palm.

"Thank you for offering to assist with the protection of my daughters. This is Laki, the eldest, and then there is Conis, Kaya, Isa, Perona, Bonney, Robin, Nami, Vivi, Haruta, Izo and Koala."

_There are twelve of them? _Sanji thought, momentarily stunned and forcing himself not to swoon at their feet and try and lavish their praises. He had a feeling that their father would not appreciate the gesture.

"Thank you for agreeing to help, sir Sanji. I trust you know the rules of my announcement?"

"Actually-"

"It's three nights to figure out where they're going, and if you do, you get whichever princess' hand you desire. If not…" Usopp drew a tiny line across his throat, and Sanji blinked, trying to process all of the new information that he had been given, and how he was meant to protest. He'd just gotten out of a war; he didn't want to risk his life trying for something he didn't want!

While the princesses _were _beautiful, Sanji's dream still came before any sort of attachments, and though he heaped compliments upon women, he did not particularly feel inclined to marry anyone. However, before he could voice these opinions, the King left, his daughters along with him, and Sanji had been subtly herded down another corridor.

_What have I gotten myself into…? _He had to ask himself, when nightfall had finally arrived and he was leaned against the cold castle wall, the princesses slowly wishing each other goodnight and drawing blankets up to their chin.

According to Usopp, (who happened to be one of the few servants still left in the palace, having not risked his life for one of the princesses' hand in marriage) the princesses all went to sleep at the same time, early every night, yet when their newest guard awoke the next morning they found their shoes completely worn through and their dresses in tatters. Each had lost their life on the third day, and Sanji was unsure of how he was meant to catch what happened every night when even princes from far away kingdoms could not.

A plate was placed gently in front of him, and Sanji started from his thoughts, quickly bowing to one of the princesses who'd given him the steaming plate of food and glass of what appeared to be wine. "Thank you my lady, for your gorgeous generosity and kind heart! But surely I could have gone to get it myself?"

"Oh no," the red head twittered, (Nami, was her name?) batting her eyelashes at him, "We couldn't possibly ask a weary soldier who guarded both our country and is now guarding us to go and get his own! Truthfully, it is no trouble at all."

"Well thank you then, my lady. It looks delicious."

_Eat nothing, drink nothing, lest you sleep and the princesses slip past you._

_Don't waste food._

_Lose your life if you don't._

Shaking his head again, to try the bouncing thoughts from his mind, Sanji gave another smile to the Princess Nami, who appeared to be waiting for something. Though it hurt to be suspicious of a lady, and a princess at that, Sanji could not shake the subconscious feeling that something was wrong.

_Eat nothing they give you._

He picked up a piece of the meat carefully, popping it into his mouth and making exaggerated chewing motions that he hoped looked realistic, before plastering the small morsel against the roof of his mouth and smiling at the princess again. "Delicious," he complimented, "Give my compliments to the chef. I shall enjoy dinner tonight."

The princess Nami smiled back at him, looking much less sinister than she had before, and Sanji tried not to swallow, lest he accidently swallow the meat on the roof of his mouth. She turned, leaving him to get ready for bed, and Sanji coughed into his palm, spitting out the meat as he did so and wedging it between him and the wall, where it could not easily be seen.

As all the candles in the castle were slowly blown out, he systematically pretended to eat and then hid the pieces of food behind him, before then closing his eyes and letting out a few exaggerated snores. There was a giggle from one of the beds closest to him, and then a creak and hushed whispers.

"He's out like a light, just like the rest!"

"I _told _you he'd be no problem," Nami's voice came, sounding triumphant and slightly miffed, and Sanji heard covers being peeled back and movement as the girls pulled different dresses over their heads and laced up their shoes. They snuck quietly from the bedroom, and Sanji carefully counted to five before standing gracefully and slinking after them.

The twelve princesses made their way through the castle until they reached an ornate door, decorated in the faint curls of swirly fruits and flowers, the hints of a shiny red and gold winking in the brief flickers of the princesses' candle. He stayed back, however, lest he be seen, but the princesses did not look back, obviously confident that he would not awaken until they returned from whatever room was behind that door.

A melodious chime filled the air, quiet but sweet, and Sanji's eyes widened in surprise as the carvings on the door began to move, creating an archway for the girls to step through. As soon as the youngest, Isa, had done so, Sanji quickly moved forwards and through the strange, magical doorway before it could close.

He hid himself almost immediately, crouching behind a plant decorated in small silver flowers that looked like bells, and the princesses all talked quietly among themselves until Robin called out, "A waltz tonight, Ace?"

_Ace? _He thought to himself in confusion, _Where have I heard that-?_

Music began to fill the air around them, though Sanji could see no instruments, and he blinked at the sound, and at the freckled man who had almost appeared from nowhere. He bowed to the dark haired Robin, a charming smile on his face as he gently took her hand and they began to dance, but Sanji could only see the freckles splayed across his cheeks and the mischievous glint in his eyes, just like-

"You!" He shouted, finger extended as he jumped to his feet and stared in shock at the man who had been dancing with the princesses. "You were the old lady on the roadside!"

The music ground to a sudden halt, the princesses all stopping their own dances to stare at him in horror, but Sanji only had eyes for the man dancing with Robin. The dark-haired man turned, slowly, and Sanji proceeded to glare at his back for such an insulting display of his overconfidence.

"Me?" The man asked, once he had turned completely, and he moved forwards, the curve of his body lithe and sleek like a cat's. He seemed to prowl, body screaming _danger _with every shift until he was practically pressed against Sanji, only the barest centimetre of space between them. "Are you sure?"

Sanji could feel his cheeks heat as he tried to lean backwards and gain more space between them."Y-yes," he stuttered, then burned even brighter red at the languid smirk that spread across the man's face and the barest brush of a fingernail against the underside of his throat. It almost felt as though his heart would jump out from where it pulsed in his neck, especially with the man trailing heat along his skin. "What are you doing with the princesses? How did you change your appearance?"

The man blinked, effortlessly slow, and Sanji's eyes darted to the pointed ears, the almost ethereal beauty the man seemed to have. "Only dancing_, _your nosiness." His tone seemed insulting, but he took a step back, and Sanji found that he could breathe again. Ace – if that truly was the man's name – lifted his hand and curled it, bright red glimmers filling the spaces between his fingertips. "Magic is quite abundant in spaces like this."

A golden crown adorned the man's head for a moment, delicately crafted and exquisitely beautiful, and a red cape hung from his shoulders, but then they disappeared and the slight push of pressure Sanji felt disappeared along with it.

Suddenly, there was a sharp tug to his shirt and Isa's tearful eyes peered into his own. "Please don't tell the king, Sir Sanji! Klahadore is awful – he won't let us dance at all! It's why he's had so many people try and find out where we go every night."

His resolve crumbled as though it had never been there to begin with. Bending till they were eye level, he told her truthfully, "I could never refuse a lady's plea. I won't tell your father – but please, in exchange, I would rather not lose my head."

"You could stay here," Ace offered, before anyone else could speak. He'd found a place to sit under one of the silver trees, and the group of thirteen had to crane their necks to get a proper glimpse of the enigma as he spoke. "After instating the proper Queen, and threat of being beheaded goes away. Plus, none but the royal family are allowed entry to the garden without my permission."

"What?" Vivi asked, looking worriedly at the freckled man, "Ace, you _let_ him in?"

Ace rested his chin on his palm, half-lidded eyes watching the group, and this time he merely seemed amused, in that same cat-like fashion that he had held before. His eyes seemed to burn a hole straight through Sanji's chest, and though he thought he'd gotten over it when Ace had first invaded his space, the blond's heart once again raced wildly, thumping in his chest.

Ace smiled, as though he could hear the pitter-patter of Sanji's heart. "He's interesting."


End file.
